May she rest in peace
by I may be a tree
Summary: "She is gone from this world now, only a memory,  that only that one man will never really forget. May she rest in peace... Yeah. Right. As if." Because they just can't get rid of a character like her. R&R


**Note to the world in general, when I grow up, I want to be River Song (though that implies I'm going to grow up at some stage... )**

**Disclaimer: I have a distinct lack of ownership of Doctor Who. I've got a replica sonic though, and that counts for a lot.**

Professor River Song is dead. Now, the only remainder of the once vivacious archaeologist is a mere imprint of her consciousness, containing her memories and personality, now forever bound in the hard-drive of the CAL super-computer in The Library, having released thousands of forgotten souls trapped souls from the very programme which she is now fated to spend the rest of the foreseeable ever. She died whilst saving four thousand and twenty two people, but, in all honestly, really, she had only done it to save one.

The most important one. . .

Her Doctor.

She is gone from this world now, only a memory, that only that one man will never really forget.

May she rest in peace.

. . .

Yeah. Right. As if.

The truth is, though River Song is still technically dead, she really has no intention of remaining that way.

Though, the 'life' provided by CAL, was all well and good, the fictitious existence was quiet, complacent, serene, but River Song just wasn't the kind of girl to settle down with a simulated story of peace and tranquillity, raising mass copied versions of false children, or spending an artificial afterlife with four colleagues, agreeable as they were. The other victims of the Vashda Nurada had all settled down, and seemed accepting, if not content with their lot. Certainly it was pleasant, definitely an improvement on River's stint in Stormcage, but after a while she found herself... well bored.

And that just didn't sit well with her.

Goodness knew the computer had tried to convince her otherwise, but , well, it was the mind of a child. And none of the others seemed to really understand her desperate need to return, to escape, to get back to reality, back to the Doctor. She'd told them little about him, only mentioning him at the last moment because she had told him to meet her there. Even before they had left for The Library expedition, her companions had regarded her with a respectful wariness, obviously having heard stories of her, the mysterious River Song, before, after and during her incarceration.

Convicted murderers tended to have that effect on people.

The fact that none of them had ever asked her anything about her chequered background, other than the purely academic, clearly told her they were all still a little afraid of her.

Which they probably should be, of course. It was a something she'd long since grown accustomed to.

But both the 'survivors' (of sorts) and CAL were united in their convictions that there was no way out. She had not been teleported away, and after the hasty departure of the released four thousand twenty two 'saved', the Vashda Nurada had been of a mind to make a tasty meal in the form of her corpse,which CAL had hastily...absorbed. However the energy from the download had definitely killed her, so reanimation was out of the picture. She was just a well preserved data-ghost like the rest of them.

It was utterly impossible, they said, the smart thing to do would to accept it and enjoy her afterlife in relative peace.

But River Song had long since stopped using words like 'impossible' and 'unfeasible' . If the Doctor could bring the universe back, from complete non-existence, wearing a fez while he was at it, and Amelia Pond had managed to bring _him_ back from the Void on her wedding day,(with help from yours truly of course) then River was pretty bloody sure she could bring herself back to the land of the living.

This was the River Song who'd once made a Dalek plead for mercy before she'd exterminated it. She could do it.

It was just taking an awfully long time.

She guessed she'd been in here for a few weeks, but there was no real way to measure the time passing. It would work, she believed it would work, she knew she could. Figuring out how wasn't the difficult part. She could, in theory, project a copy of herself as she was when she died, becoming an external component of CAL. In theory.

Fortunately for her, she had help. CAL herself, having seen all of Rivers memories of her adventures with the Doctor, and being eternally grateful to River for giving her life to save her and helping the people trapped in her mind escape.

Also, Miss Evangelista, who retained her superior intellect from her original, unsuccessful now much improved download, was actually proving to be a rather competent assistant. The girls eagerness to help had puzzled her at first, as neither she, nor any of the others had any desire to leave, nor had they been particularly close before the expedition. Indeed they had only met the day before their departure, and the girl had failed to impress her. However, Miss Evangelistas motivations soon became clear, when she hesitantly enquired if River knew anything about 'the nice woman' Donna Noble, the only one in the Library that had shown any real interest in her, who had been travelling with the Doctor, whom she had apparently aided in seeing the false world around her for what it was. River had only nodded. Something in her manner had made the girl cautious in pressing for details, but her curiosity had to be quenched. The look River gave her made her heart sink.

"She went home, after a while, and got married" her tone was brisk, she had given the girl the option of leaving it there, her manner hinting that she didn't really want to know anything more. Miss Evangelista was clever enough to take the hint, and with a troubled heart, they returned to their work. River was glad she didn't press her. What happened to Donna was, she felt, worse than what happened to her.

It took a tedious amount of time, sifting through the data, perfecting it enough to produce a corporeal form. That CAL had absorbed her body was a huge advantage, as it gave them a perfect copy of her unique DNA. She couldn't really return to 'life', as it were, but finally managed to make a near perfect copy of herself as she'd been when she'd died. She remained part of CAL's system, now existing as an impressive sort of hologram.

Her first excursion, when she had returned to the material world, lasted only a few seconds, and left her exhausted, but her triumph in her success urged her on. Before long, the outing were lasting hours, then days, until she was sure she could remain outside indefinitely. Next was tweaking the data to give her physical mass, twisting it so she could pass for a living human woman. Finally, the most difficult part, programming it so she could leave the planet of The Library. It was tricky, but the young Doctor had left her the screwdriver his future self would give her to save her. She had been surprised that he had left it there. Her diary, she knew from painful first hand experience he had not touched.

She persevered though, and was now virtually positive that she could leave. There was always a risk that something would go terribly, horribly wrong, as ever, but where was the fun otherwise?

After a solemn but acceptant, goodbye to the others, and a final systems check with CAL, she was almost, virtually just about sure it was safe to leave.

She checked the date in the Library. It was two and a half years after they had come here and her Doctor met her for the first time.

She was all set to leave.

Now the really tricky part.

Finding the right bloody Doctor.

She refused to spend any more time with him when he had no clue as to who and what she was to him. That ship had sailed. How to find him at the right point though, now that _would_ be awkward.

Looking back over her time with him, she supposed it made a sort of sick sense. His guilt at seeing her die, knowing it was because of him, knowing it was _for_ him, even though he had no idea why, or indeed who she was to him. That was probably why he had continued to come to her aid, even without any idea why she kept on calling him. Because of what she was going to do. After that, it was probably extreme curiosity. Then he found out who and what she was, and well, the rest was, as they say, history.

Metaphorically speaking, of course.

It wasn't exactly the most pleasant reason to start a relationship, but, in all honesty, when had anything ever been sane with him?

Of course, following in that train of thought, it was probably why he had been able to fall in love with her at all. She knew full well that he often grew close to his companions, and always, always lost them. One way or another, be it by their choice, or his, or the risks of travelling through time and space with him making themselves known to him. She knew he always blamed himself for whatever happened, even when it wasn't his fault. River knew well the joy and wonder of simply being with the Doctor, and how what he showed them made up for everything else. She knew in her hearts, not a single one of them in their right minds would have missed it for the world.

But still, he always held back, for one reason or another, and so was eternally alone, even if he had someone with him.. But with her, he had already seen the worst. Maybe because he did not need to worry about anything happening to her, thanks to the timey wimey , as he affectionately put it, aspect to their relationship, that had allowed them to become closer. He needn't vex himself over her possible fate because, for him, it already happened.

Or something like that.

It almost made River grateful for their twisted time-line. Almost

She found him, not too long after. She got him at the right moment. It was after the last time she'd seen him, after the Singing Towers, when he'd given her his screwdriver. At the time, she had not questioned it, because she assumed he knew was going to his own death, instead of knowing he was sending her to hers. She supposed she should've known, when he'd cried. But she hadn't wanted to dwell on it. Not when her Doctor was with her, and he knew her, and they were together, for however brief a time it may be.

She found him on Earth, in the mid 21st century. Fool was just looking for trouble, loitering in the most hectic timezone in the planets history. She smiled indulgently. He only really came to this point for one of two reasons. Either sulking or moping. It was at times like these when she wondered how it was that people could never find him. He could be so predictable.

And he'd be in London, of course, pretending to keep out of trouble, and failing spectacularly.

As always.

When she found him, it was dark. He was sitting on a beaten up park bench, gazing up at the stars. Well, at the smoky cloud cover, concealing the stars anyway.

He had his 'deep in thought' face on. And he was sad. So sad. Despair seemed to emanate from him, when he was usually so good at keeping it hidden. But there was no one around to conceal it from now. He was, as always, alone.

Here was a man who'd lost everything

For a long while, she just watched him, unable to move, so shocked she was at seeing him. And seeing him like this. She prided herself on knowing the Doctor better than anyone. But this, she'd only seen glimpses of in their long time together. He'd been hiding it from her too, protecting her from it. This was not just him grieving her loss, but lamenting the inevitable.

That he would always be alone.

Well, the universe could go to hell now, for all River Song gave a damn. It had taken enough from this magnificent, wonderful, and utterly insane man.

She stepped out of the shadows and approached the greatest man she had ever known.

"Hello sweetie", she said, using her customary greeting, a small smile on her face.

The Doctor jumped up. The depth of the sorrow in his eyes did not suit his young, boyish face. He schooled his expression to one of surprise. She studied his face. The man she had met in the Library was much better looking, no doubt about it, but this was _her_ Doctor. The man with a bowtie. Her smile widened.

"River", he said shocked. "What are you...when are... no...why are you here?" he stumbled for words.

"And I'd always thought elocution was one of your strong points." she sighed, and sat down on the bench, gesturing for him to sit down next to her. He remained standing.

Taking a deep breath, he steadied himself.

"So" he began, hands in pockets, "What's up?"

She raised a delicate eyebrow. "Oh, nothing." she answered, still smiling.

"Nothing" he repeated.

"Nothing at all sweetie" she answered.

"No alien invasions?" he probed

"None I'm aware of, dear."

"No threats to the space-time continuum.

"None that I've had anything to do with this time."

"I shouldn't expect a big explosion in the near future?"

"Well, probably, but nothing you can blame me for" she replied, grinning

" Right, well. If you're sure..." he looked bewildered.

"I suppose I just missed you, dearest, it's been a while for me" she answered, still wondering the best way to go about telling him.

"You missed me?" he repeated.

"We're a bit slow tonight, are we Doctor?" she teased.

"And that's all?", he clarified

"That's all"

"Doctor Song, you are an enigma, wrapped in a mystery, caged in timey wimey goodness." he said, finally smiling at her.

"Oh my love I'm glad you think so. And it's Professor Song now." she said, her smile widening.

"Professor Song? Oh, erm, of course, right. Well done." The look was back. He thought she was still headed to the Library.

"Thank you, sweetie, but you've already congratulated me once before. The Singing Towers. I'm sure you remember. Do you need you screwdriver back. It's quite a handy little gismo, I'd be loath to lose it." she stopped talking before she started babbling. The look in her Doctors eye was truly priceless. Disbelief, mixed with rationalisation, with the dawning of hope.

"The Towers" he whispered.

"Yes" she breathed.

"But, you said... will say, that was the last time..." he trailed off, as though he dare not finish.

"I have to say, you're last incarnation was pretty easy on the eyes. Though don't worry you're still my favourite. Bow tie not withstanding"

"River...you died." he whispered, sitting on the bench next to her, his green eyes practically drinking her in. She knew he was this close to whipping out his sonic.

"Yes, sweetie, I know. I cant believe you always knew." she whispered.

"River..."

"Doctor", she stated softly.

"How?" he asked, but then answered his own question. "Oh, of course, leftover DNA from your remains, combined with a fully functioning mind from your data-ghost, and power. An awful lot of power. That's ..." he trailed off.

"Something you would think of?" she answered.

"Yes. Well done." He was starting to smile now.

"Thank you sweetie. Though credit where it's due, the screwdriver helped."

"Well", he looked pleased with himself, "Yes, well, obviously."

"And thank you, Doctor. You saved me even when you didn't know why you should." she clasped one of his hands in her own. His smug look vanished, to be replaced with a soft smile.

"River, you saved thousands of people that day. I could never let someone like that go,"

"I know, my love. You're the Doctor. It's what you do"

"And you, my dear, are Professor River Song. And you are _alive_", he marvelled, his green eyes drinking her in, free hand raised, caressing her cheek.

"Very much so, sweetie", she agreed, beaming at him. Her Doctor, returned to her at last. He looked at her for an immeasurable amount of time, in which her heart practically sang with joy. She reminded herself that she was a grown, mature woman, and so resisted the urge to squeal with delight. Just about.

Jumping up from her seat, pulling the Doctor up with her, she cast her eyes around at their environment.

"Well then, Doctor, you've been here a while I take it? So what trouble have you found? And don't give me the 'staying out of trouble line', I've known you too long for that to ever work." she said, turning to look at him. He looked at her, clearly confused.

"What? Is that it?" if River had to name his expression now, it would be... insulted. The Doctor, the Oncoming Storm, the Destroyer of Worlds, was _pouting._ She laughed.

"Have I forgotten something?" she said, still smiling, especially when he drew closer to her, now barely a few inches away.

"Oh, River... shut up" he said, and then he kissed her. He was still smiling, she could tell, as his hands fell to her waist, drawing her closer still. And River didn't care about whatever trouble she knew he'd found. More immediate concerns, such as the Doctors talented tongue, demanded her complete attention.

She recalled the time, not so long ago, when she was sure she'd never have him like this again. How she had put on a brave face, telling herself over and over again that she knew it was coming. And though she knew she would not change one second of her time with the Doctor, that feeling, the hopeless inevitability had all but killed her. It had only taken the events of the Library to finish her off.

And yet here they were, having endured time, and death itself, entwined on a strange planet, in a long dead time, together at last. River allowed herself to appreciate this one little cliché, before completely focusing on the Doctor, on_ her_ Doctor.

After a few moments, he drew back, her favourite mischievous glint in his eyes. Oh yes, there would be trouble.

"Right. Now that that's...sorted out, I'm in the mood for some adventures. You up for it?" he said, straightening his jacket and bowtie, reaching into his pocket and grabbing his sonic.

"For you sweetie, always" she replied, not missing the double entendre in his words. (Though he probably had, bless his hearts)

"Right." he took her hand and pulled her away with him, back to the Tardis, to the never ending adventures and running, and the best afterlife anyone could ever ask for.

**Reviews if you don't want me to feel worthless and abandoned.**

**Yeah, I'm not above that.**

**But seriously, tell me what you think.**

**I don't know if I'll make this into a series, maybe if I get enough feedback**

**(looks pointedly at the review button)**


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